


It's the Outside that Slays Them

by jat_sapphire



Category: The Professionals
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pre-Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14717285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jat_sapphire/pseuds/jat_sapphire
Summary: "... frankly, of late I'd rather take one of Ray's birds than go out and find one he's never seen."





	It's the Outside that Slays Them

Never been a problem pulling birds, and me tall, dark, beautiful, charming, funny, and just as good in bed as all that promises. I tell Ray he can take lessons, but that's a joke. He rarely has much problem catching them either. It's keeping them, especially when he actually wants 'em. Bloody daft of them, but no accounting for tastes, I keep telling him.

The only real rival for each of us is the other one. That can be amusing, too. Winning's always good even when it's darts, better when it's a woman. Won't say no. And there's always the chance he'll be the one to walk off with the prize. Easy enough to find my own, but frankly, of late I'd rather take one of Ray's birds than go out and find one he's never seen.

Maybe they haven't done it yet. He's flirted, shown her that wicked grin, not to mention his backside in those tight trousers of his. Might've been all thoughtful, his finger on his own lips, back and forth and dipping in. I suppose, though, that's just me seen that.

Bird like that, doesn't know what she missed, and then I'm there twinkling at her, smiling, charm over that hard-man look that lights them up, too. Oh, I make them sing, those birds. But often he'll pull her after me, and I wonder how he puts his hands, his lips, where mine have been. Does he imagine me with her?

Or maybe I pick her up after he's dropped her. We're in her bed where they were together. I kiss down her neck, lick into her ear, track him over her skin. His fingerprints are where I touch, and the girl doesn't know why I always go down on her, and why I do it last before fucking because afterwards I cannot wait. His tongue has been there, in her soft wet lips. I taste what he tasted, drink what he lapped up.

It's a comfort too. She can't be another Anne if she lets me fuck her. She can't want him forever if she wants me now.

Or maybe she does still want him, and if I'm clever enough about it, she'll tell me how he loved her. The wildest girls are the ones who might do it, get turned on by the man in her head enough to share with the other man in bed. Those dirty whispers, “He touched me there, sucked so hard ... ran his fingers up my back ... ” “Like this?” with a little nail, and feel her shiver, “Yes, more,” and the danger of it runs in my veins because it would be so easy for her to guess. Depending on what she says and what he and I do, she can make me come by telling me about Ray.

There's only been one who caught on and loved it: Susan. “Move a little right, yes, that's where he was, his thumb stroking round and round, that's good, though his fingers are longer. Put them in, oh god, yours are thicker but his reached farther, bring them out, right to there, and then in again,” made me feel like we were doing her together, and when it was my prick going in I swore I felt his on mine in her, that skin, that bulk, and I came so hard I was barely breathing after.

Luckily, she said, “I don't care what made that happen. I'll read you sheep porn if you'll do that again.”

Not many foursomes, but every once in a great while, and that's better than stealing sloppy seconds. I've got an armful of my own, breasts and soft belly and hips, nothing to sneeze at. He's got a girl over there, and I can see him. Her hands in his hair, his up her skirt. I close my eyes, but I can hear him slurping like she's tea and their “Mmm”s and “Oh”s, and they seem closer, somehow, than the girl I'm kissing and fingering. I work her, I suck her neck and lick her tits because she needs to be thinking of herself while I watch him throw back his head and make those little grunts and growls and then go all boneless.

Oh, then, the foursome last night with Alison and Candace. We switched birds for the second round. I didn't need to imagine fingerprints. Alison didn't need to tell me what he'd done. I was there and saw, and saw again as his mouth was where I'd given Candace that hickey, his hands played with her arse where I had fingered it, and my mouth was on Allison's breast, on the nipple as it rose and hardened again while it was still wet from his sucking. I tasted his lager from dinner, just faintly, so I moved to the navel he'd tongued and the pubic hair he'd snuffled in, and when I got to her treasure box, his treasure was still dripping out of it. Ray, it was Ray's spunk I licked and sucked and as if that weren't enough, I heard him groan and looked up and he was watching me do it, fucking Candace and looking at me with such hot eyes, and good thing my mouth was full because I said “Ray!” but nobody heard, and I came and came even after none of my own spunk was left. Fortunately Alison got off on my mouth, and Candace and Ray had it away soon after. All that time, I was pretty much collapsed, trembling with the echoes of pleasure ringing through my body. I felt helpless and exposed, though I suppose I could have looked all right if I hadn't put my arm over my eyes.

“Bodie?” asked Alison. I forced myself to sit up and take her in my arms again. I smiled and kissed her, lips closed. Tasting him.

It was Ray who made our excuses and farewells, got our clothes sorted and drove us. I really didn't know what to say, rare for me, so I just waited for him to take the piss somehow, just looked out the windscreen, hardly even noticing where the car went until I recognized my stoop. Even then I sat, hardly able to comprehend that the sky wasn't falling.

Ray reached over and touched my face, softly, fingertips warm on the chill slope of my cheek. “Bodie,” he said in a voice just as soft.

Then I had to look, went on looking, searching for any hint of scorn or anger. There was none. Maybe uncertainty, or maybe I only thought I saw it because I heard it in his voice. “Tomorrow, then?”

“What do the gir—”

He interrupted, waving a hard dismissively. “I think we'll skip the birds next time.”

The muscles of my face relaxed, and a bigger grin than before, a better grin, stretched my mouth. “Yeah? Well, is it darts then?”

He leaned as close as the car seats let him. “I'll feed you dinner . . . and then feed you a meat and two veg. And when you call my name, I want to hear it.”

“And when I suck you dry, it comes straight to me.” Both of us sounded belligerent. That was fine, but the way he was hanging back was not. I grabbed him round the back of his head and kissed the last of his taste right back into his mouth. He said, “Mmm,” and we kept it up a good while, until he shifted his hips and drew back, looking a little dazed and entirely fuckable.

“Sure you want to wait a whole day?” I asked him with one of my smuggest smiles.

“No. Not in the least. Not the tiniest bit.” He kissed me one more short time. “But we're due in Cowley's office at nine this morning.”

Now it was me groaning, and not at all in a sexy way.

He slapped my thigh. “Go on, layabout. I'll pick you up.”

“Ooh, will you now, petal?” I batted my eyelashes and then heaved myself out of the car, hearing his laugh behind me.

Those girls, they're easy because they don't know him. They don't know me. Slain by the shining outer packaging or by that perfect imperfection of his. They scratch an itch and they don't even understand what the itch really is … can't, of course, I don't tell them. He's the one knows. That's terrifying. It feels like just before a meet when we know there are guns. Like just before training when we know Towser's in there waiting for us. Almost like riding the ambulance and him bleeding.

No, nothing's like that.

But the rush from almost fighting, it is like that. When I unlocked my door as Ray sped off, I was full to the top of my head with a fierce joy that I wasn't sure would let me sleep. Course, I wasn't thinking—had my end away twice! I fell into bed and took about enough time to wonder whether we'd use his or mine. And then right off a cliff into sleep so dead I didn't even dream.

But don't need to, now.


End file.
